


Passage of Time

by FifthLegionFulminata



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: I honestly just, I mean, M/M, This is, fuck the bbs up, its worrisome, so violent., sorry in advance, violent.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-07 08:46:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12229542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FifthLegionFulminata/pseuds/FifthLegionFulminata
Summary: This is honestly me just going ham on the bbs and letting my true sadist out. It has been described as torture porn, so sorry in advance. Don't say I didn't warn you.





	1. Chapter 1

It was with cold resignation that Dmitri listened to Warren Kepler rattle on with zeal as he describes in detail what new task Cutter has assigned him. “We caught a rat, doctor, a pretty big one! Of course, we can’t have rats just- wandering around here, we have too many goodies that it could snatch up! As you know, as head rat catcher it’s my job to find out where they’re coming from, and it’s yours to keep them alive until I find out why! But heres the thing, doc.” He grips him by the shoulder, his wild eyes looming over Dmitri as he says slowly, “If this rat dies, I’m holding you responsible. So!” He leans back, all smiles and cheer. “You should probably get to work!” Dmitri shudders when the door slams behind him as Kepler leaves, the image of blood splashed across Kepler’s face and the smear left on his shirt from his gore covered hands causing his stomach to turn. Its obvious that Kepler had been very busy.

With trepidation he opens the door to his small medical center, the dim lights flickering above his newest patient. He’s shirtless, his thin chest heaving as he breathes through what must be the worst pain of his life. Kepler has been busy: the bright red bruise across his left side? Broken ribs, at least two. Burns from a blowtorch on upper left arm form a patch five inches in diameter. Add a dislocated shoulder, broken collarbone, bruises scattered across his skin, and Kepler’s favorite thing, the corkscrew wound on lower left arm. Kepler enjoys slowly turning the corkscrew into one’s flesh, typically grinding it into the bone as he goes until its flush with your skin, then ripping it out all at once. ‘That explains the blood,“ Dmitri thinks, taking all this in at a glance as he approaches the man, stopping only to put on surgical gloves. At the sound of his footsteps the man looks at him with wide, startled eyes, his voice a pained gasp. “Oh, geez. Is it your turn now?” Dmitri scowls, grabbing the top of his right arm and shoulder tightly and popping the dislocated joint back into place, flinching unconsciously at his hoarse scream. His voice is a cracked, weak sound. “Fuck, give a guy a warning next time. Well, I guess thats too much to ask.” Dmitri doesn’t respond, knowing better than to treat his patients like people. He gets to work on the gaping hole where Kepler ripped out the screw, disinfecting it before packing it with gauze and covering it with a bandage. After, he does the same with the burn on his arm, all while the man chatters on with brief interludes as he reacts to Dmitri’s ministrations. “So, you’re a doctor? Thats cool. You seem like you know what you’re doing, get a lot of practice? I imagine- fuck, that stings!- I imagine that you don’t have a ton of patients that come to you with a cold, huh?” Dmitri can’t help the occasional confused glances he gives the man, baffled at how he’s handling being tortured by a psychopath with such levity. Normally Kepler’s victims tell Dmitri everything in the hopes that he’ll make it stop, and yet this man is just cheerfully talking to him as if they’re waiting in line at the store. His job done, Dmitri leaves, wanting nothing to do with this strange man.

The next day he ignores the man as he works on his newest acquisitions: broken fingers on the right hand, hand-shaped bruise on his throat, more burns on his left arm, another corkscrew hole close to where his collarbone is fractured, plus the plethora of bruises that came from the beatings that preceded everything else. Casually, as if nothing is wrong, the man chatters. “Hey, you know I haven’t gotten your name yet? I’m Eiffel, nice to meet you.” Dmitri clenches his fists unconsciously. “You’re not much of a talker, huh? Thats okay, I get told that I talk too much anyways, so I’ll just talk for us both. You know, when I was a kid I broke my arm. Hurt like hell, I got into a fight and the bastard I was up against just snapped it like a twig.” He laughs at the memory. “I was super freaking scrawny as a kid, it honestly wouldn’t have taken much force at all. It was like I had glass bones and paper skin, I guess not much has changed, huh?” Dmitri stands abruptly, leaving without a word.

The next day Dmitri tries not to flinch when Kepler pats him on the face, intentionally hitting the bruise forming on his cheek and smiling at his split lip. “You gotta get him to trust you, Doctor, I’m beginning to lose my patience. He’s quite talkative- but not about anything I need, so you’ll have to woo him, okay? Don’t make me ask twice. You know how much I hate doing that.” Kepler saunters away, whistling, and Dmitri’s blood runs cold at the results of Kepler’s latest session. “Heeeey, doc.” The man’s voice is a wheeze, hardly more than a whisper, his hair plastered to his face with blood. Broken nose, black eye, mild concussion, laceration two inches deep across chest, broken leg, missing right pinky, palm of right hand burned until bone is exposed, bruises on top of bruises. He tries to keep his hands from shaking as he works, listening almost against his will as the man quietly talks to him. “Hey… do you like music? I’m a sucker for a good song, I have records and cds on every shelf in my house, with shelves in every room. You know-” Dmitri’s voice feels creaky from disuse. “Will you stop talking?” The man looks at him with undisguised shock and delight. “You can talk!” He laughs weakly, groaning a little when Dmitri starts stitching the deep cut across his chest. “How about this, I’ll shut up if you tell me your name, deal?” Dmitri growls in irritation but nods, feeling uncomfortable when the man beams at him in happy expectation. “…..Dmitri Volodin.” Hissing through clenched teeth in pain, he tenses as Dmitri does what he can for his right hand. “N-nice to meet you.” “You said you would stop talking.” He smiles shakily, sweating and obviously trying to stay conscious while Dmitri moves to set his broken leg. “Yeah, so I did. Too b-bad I lied.” Dmitri’s glad when his head slumps forward, eyelashes fluttering as he loses consciousness finally.


	2. Chapter 2

He honestly should be used to the pain by now, but he still trembled with it as he limped back to the med bay. A quick glance told him that his patient was alive but sleeping, the saline solution in his IV almost out. Briefly Dmitri considers doing his first aid in his quarters, but he’s loathe to walk so far with blood soaking into his clothes and chaffing the lacerations and burn on his back. With a resigned sigh, he peels his now sticky shirt off and gets to work with practiced if shaky hands, sewing the torn and split skin on his back as best he can before gritting his teeth and dumping a bottle of rubbing alcohol over it all. He bites his lip and digs his fingers into his knees until the pain subsides, resting his head on the metal counter top where he keeps his medical supplies. He sits bolt upright when he hears a horrified whisper, “Jesus, were you… were you flogged? Did Kepler do that??” Turning quickly, he avoids looking the man in the eyes as he digs out one of the button-up shirts he keeps for these occasions and puts it on, not even caring that he hasn’t bandaged anything yet. “That is none of your business.” “Dude, thats.. really fucked up. Don’t you work for him?” Dmitri can’t help but glare at him then. “Would you willingly work for someone like that?” Eyes wide at his vehemence, the man shakes his head quickly. “I did not think so. Again, is not your business.”

He walks over to him and pinches the back of his left hand, frowning before replacing the empty bag of saline with another while pointedly ignoring him. “Hey..” He freezes when he feels something tug on the hem of his shirt, looking down in surprise to see that the man has grabbed a hold of it. He quickly dislodges his hand and steps out of reach, looking at him finally. He looks awful, his skin a bright collection of bruises and red bandages. “Do not touch me.” The man lifts his left hand weakly as if in defense, grimacing. “Sorry, can’t talk very loud. You okay? Look like you might throw up.” Dmitri had hoped his rising nausea wouldn’t show on his face, but apparently today really wasn’t his day. “I. Am. Fine. You know what would be constructive? If you would just give Kepler whatever he wants and stop testing the limits of his patience, you do no one any favors by delaying the inevitable.” To his shock the man looks even more concerned at his frustrated outburst. “Wait, he did that cause of me? Is that what happened?” Dmitri feels sick and before he can stop himself he’s speaking in a rushed, pleading tone, “Just stop, stop looking at me like you give a damn what happens. Do you have any idea what I am doing to you? I am keeping you alive so a man can torture you until you either tell him what he wants or there is nothing left of you to torture. That is my job, that is what- Don’t! Don’t touch me!” He recoils when Eiffel reaches out to him again, worry plain on his battered and bloody face, and suddenly its too much. He leaves, slamming the door behind him and rushing to his quarters. Theres a little bit of a silver lining to the day, he’d avoided eating so there isn’t anything but bile for his stomach to reject when he makes it to the bathroom.

Ignoring Eiffel is easy when he’s unconscious from pain or maybe exhaustion, so Dmitri feels relief when he returns the next day to find him like that. Kepler granted a small reprieve, just two days, so today is the last day Eiffel can recover before it all starts again. He works quickly, checking the progress on Eiffel’s many wounds and fractures before making sure he’s not dehydrated- if he goes into shock Kepler will kill them both. Dmitri scolds himself again for having missed Eiffel’s loss of fluids over the first few days, Kepler recognized the symptoms of shock when he went to take Eiffel for another session and his irritation with Dmitri was palpable. His shoulder aches at the memory, but he tries to think of other things. Music? No. Can’t think about music. Cats are fine. Lets think about cats. His body tenses when he’s jolted out of his thoughts by a soft touch on the back of his hand, looking at Eiffel in a mixture of surprise and discomfort.

“What.” Eiffel looks sheepish, pulling his hand away and playing with a fold of fabric on his jeans. “I wanted to apologize. Shouldn’t have kept bothering you. Made it clear you didn’t want to talk about it.” Wishing he could rub the memory of his touch off the back of his hand, Dmitri’s voice is acidic. “You are right. I do not.” Eiffel’s hand spasms lightly when Dmitri pulls the bandages off his chest to check on the laceration across it, and he hisses softly through clenched teeth before speaking. “Y-yeah, I’m a dick. Sorry. Gotta ask, why hasn’t Kepler come? Been almost two days.” With the air of it being pulled out of him, Dmitri reluctantly replies. “He has given you reprieve. You suffered from shock, would not want you to die so soon.” “Awfully considerate of him. Hey, Dmitri?” His hands begin to shake at the use of his name, turning away to hide it by grabbing more gauze and antiseptic. “Dmitri, why are you here?” Clenching his hands momentarily, he says slowly, “I am a coward who does not want to die. Leaving is a death sentence. Stop asking me things.” Eiffel’s voice is chagrined, like a scolded child. “Okay. Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Dmitri can’t stop himself from asking something thats been on his mind. “How many times has he asked you for information?” He gets a blank look of surprise as his immediate response before Eiffel says weakly, “I dunno, two? Is that bad?” Feeling cold, Dmitri just nods and goes back to work of Eiffel’s chest, not noticing how gentle he’s being in comparison to his normal brisk movements. Eiffel watches him until he falls asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Dmitri looked at Eiffel in surprise when he heard him sigh, as if asleep, and is inexplicably nervous when he sees that Eiffel was watching him work. He tries not to fumble the waterproof bandage he’s wrapping around Eiffel’s burnt and mutilated right hand. “What.” Eiffel smiles lopsidedly at him, as if hes happy that Dmitri noticed him but content to just watch him. “How is your back feeling? You look like you’re feeling better.” Growling in frustration, Dmitri scowls at him. “If I say I am fine, will you stop bothering me about it? Why do you even care?” Taken aback by the question, Eiffel says quietly, “Cause you’re a decent person?” Its Dmitri’s turn to be taken by surprise, and instead of saying anything he pretends to not have heard him. Tap, tap tap go Eiffel’s fingers on the back of his hand and he recoils, dropping the gauze. Hoping his voice stays steady, he speaks quickly. “What, what now?” He retrieves the gauze off the floor and avoids looking at Eiffel while he hastily finishes his job and once done puts distance between them. “Dmitri, what happens if Kepler has to ask something three times?” He goes cold at the question, clenching his hands unconciously to keep them steady. “I do not know. No one has been so stupid.” Eiffel looks at him seriously. “What do you know?” Dmitri refuses to meet his gaze, staring avidly at the floor. “I know what will happen to me if I fail one more time. But you have something he wants, so I doubt he will kill you.” “What I have he can’t get out of me. Will he really kill you? Doesn’t he need you?” Briefly, without meaning to, Dmitri glances at him with an expression that makes Eiffel wish for many things, most of all that they had met under different circumstances. “Yes, he will. All he needs is an excuse.” Dmitri turns away, busying himself with something so he can feign nonchalance. “Anyway, a doctor can be easily found, I am not necessary to his endeavors. Being expendable is no new concept for me.” Eiffel protests weakly, sitting up a little and gasping in pain before laying back down. “Hey, you aren’t expendable, you’re literally the only nice person here. Hypothetically speaking, if I could get the both of us out I would in a heartbeat.” Eiffel’s unprepared for how cold Dmitri’s eyes are when he looks at him sharply. “Do you honestly believe for one second that I am nice? That I am your friend? You are dangerously wrong, and even if you could leave I would not go with you. I am exactly where I belong.”

For just a moment Eiffel wonders if maybe he misread Dmitri, mistook him for someone who cared about his well being, but then he remembers the torn and flayed skin on his back, the layers of scars beneath it, and the brands on his shoulders extending almost to his spine in a language Eiffel can’t understand. He was sure it was Russian, but all he could see were the letters, “недостаточность, Бесполезный,” which must have taken hours to burn into his skin. Kepler had been careful to leave his shoulders as untouched as possible, leaving the letters pristine and legible even at a distance. No one deserves that, ever, and he banishes the thought. “You don’t belong here, and you don’t deserve this. Please, talk to me. We can figure something out.” He pleads, but Dmitri has long since given up. “You should probably try to sleep. Kepler will be here soon.” Dmitri’s heart stops when he opens the door and Kepler is there, smiling monstrously. “Why, Dmitri. You didn’t tell me how close you were with our good friend here. I wonder why that is.” Dmitri can hear Eiffel’s hasty protestations, but all he can think is, ‘Oh god, oh god he knows he knows heknowsheknowsheknows I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, please don’t-’ and suddenly he’s thinking nothing at all as Kepler’s fist collides with his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse.

Dmitri wishes fervently that he could slip back into unconsciousness when he wakes slowly, his head throbbing in time with his heartbeat. His attempt to touch the source of his pain is thwarted by the restraints on his wrists as the throbbing increases in tempo, taking a deep breath to calm himself and failing when he sees the situation hes in. Eiffel is similarly restrained, both of them seated across from one another in simple chairs that have locks around the wrists and ankles to keep them in place. Eiffel is carefully keeping his expression neutral, but Dmitri can see him glance at him every time he thinks Kepler isn’t watching. Dmitri flinches when Kepler casually runs his fingers through his hair, almost affectionate if one ignores how he digs his fingers into the bruise forming just above his ear. “Oh good, you’re awake. I would hate for you to miss this. Dmitri, you’re familiar with this game, aren’t you?” The moment he says the word ‘game’ Dmitri feels ice pour through his veins as he clenches his jaw tight, his nails cutting into his palms. Eiffel’s expression doesn’t change when Kepler moves behind Dmitri, who braces himself for whats coming when he feels heat on the back of his neck. Kepler’s voice is like velvet. “Don’t worry, Dima, this one doesn’t count towards your total. This is all for you, Eiffel, look. I chose the letter E, Just. For. You. Hope you can really appreciate that.”

Blinding heat, so bright he clenches his jaw until he tastes blood and hears something roar in his ears, tears spilling over from his eyes as he fights to stay completely silent. ‘Its not that bad, we’ve been here before, it doesn’t hurt that much, we’re okay, but it burns burns burns how can we be okay hate this deserve this earned this at least it doesn’t count this time’ His mind reels, screaming for him, and he doesn’t even realize that Kepler’s removed the brand until he feels arms wrap around his neck in a parody of affection. Kepler smiles at Eiffel, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, and he says in a purr, “Eiffel, you’ve been so quiet. I thought maybe you’d enjoy yourself, since this is because of you. Perhaps you didn’t like this present of mine, perhaps you’d like something else? How about this: I electrocute him until his heart stops. Yes? You’d like that? Thats wonderful!” Cold washes over Dmitri’s shoulders when Kepler’s heavy arms are pulled away and he shivers, refusing to look anywhere but at the floor. Kepler attaches nodes to his chest, taking the time to unbutton his shirt just to delay the inevitable before standing behind Dmitri again.

In all things Kepler is careful, always toeing the line between killing someone and keeping them alive, but he has never been one for easing someone into pain. He flicks his wrist, turning the dial to 80 milliamps and startling a choked scream out of Dmitri’s throat, whose whole body locks as agony flies through him. Kepler speaks conversationally to Eiffel. “This is 80 mA, it actually takes 100 to kill a person. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt, though. He probably wishes it was 100. Lets go to 90, just to see if he’ll scream again- he normally doesn’t so I’m quite pleased.” At 90, Dmitri can feel his heart begin to pound erratically, and then its dark. Really, really dark. And just as suddenly, its not, and he’s confused and why does everything hurt so bad- oh. Thats why. He can hear people talking, recognizes their voices but not their words. Kepler is upset. That much Dmitri can tell, but at what he doesn’t know. Theres more talking, the inflection of a question, and Dmitri wishes he could warn Eiffel- tell him what he wants, just do it, its better than whats coming- a scream, hoarse, horrific, and Kepler is looming in front of him. “He’ll die of blood-loss in a few minutes. You need to do your fucking job.”

The moment Kepler unlocks the restraints, Dmitri staggers to his feet and stumbles, half collapsing but too afraid of Kepler’s anger to give himself the time he needs to recover. His vision is blurry, but after a few agonizing seconds he can focus better and feels his heart sink all the way into the floor. Eiffel is bleeding too much. His right arm is gone, cut off just below his right shoulder, and blood is smeared on his face and clothes and the floor. Kepler leaves, satisfied that Dmitri will do what he wants him to, and Eiffel immediately sobs out an apology. “I’m so sorry-so sorry- I didn’t know what he would do to you but I’m so sorry please- please forgive me I couldn’t let him see how much it bothered me.” His voice trails off, tears streaming down his face as he looks at Dmitri with desperation and concern, either in too much pain to think clearly or he’s just stupid enough to be worried about something like that right now. Dmitri’s brain scrambles to think before noticing that the bleeding is slowing as his blood vessels contract, so now he just needs to get Eiffel to the med-bay as soon as possible. The next few minutes are a blur, with Eiffel’s slurred apologies in his ear as he half-drags him to the operating table, moving quickly to gather what he needs from the cabinets. With shaking hands he struggles to start an IV of saline, but after two attempts he’s able to get it done.

Next he needs to clean the wound, but hes horrified to find that Kepler has actually amputated Eiffel’s arm, not just cut it off. Even if he could theres no way to reattach the limb and all he can do now is sew his skin together and make sure he doesn’t die of infection, blood-loss, or shock. Eiffel is still looking at him with those big, worried eyes, and Dmitri almost sobs when he realizes Eiffel is still waiting for him to say he forgives him. “Its okay, Eiffel. There.. there is nothing to forgive.” Relief washes over Eiffel’s pale, blood spattered face as he smiles warmly at him, and bile rises in Dmitri’s throat. He hesitates momentarily but in the end he gives him enough morphine to dull the pain before getting started on his arm. Dmitri works quickly, cleaning whats left of his arm with alcohol before carefully sewing the flayed skin closed, wrapping everything up tightly in a bandage as soon as he’s done. There is only a small window of opportunity here, the lull in between sessions where Kepler is under the assumption that Dmitri is occupied with keeping Eiffel alive. Grabbing a duffel bag, the one that Eiffel was caught with, he stuffs it with as many medical supplies as he can and then braces Eiffel’s broken leg, all while Eiffel watches in dazed curiosity. “What are you doing?” Dmitri doesn’t answer out of fear of putting it into words, and he impatiently waits for the saline drip to finish by changing all of Eiffel’s bandages to pass the time. Once thats done, he helps Eiffel upright and gives him the dufflebag to hold in his lap while Eiffel sways slightly, clutching the bag with his left hand.

Dmitri is grabbing a few extra medical tools that he can keep on him when the door opens suddenly, Kepler striding in with a pleased expression. “Eiffel! You’re looking much better than I anticipated, good job Doctor Volodin. I thought maybe we could have a little chat.” Eiffel’s too out of it to guard his mannerisms, glaring at him openly and speaking with a slur, “I don’t wanna talk to you.” Kepler smiles widely, taking in the situation at a glance and coming to the realization of what they’re doing. His voice is thick with derision. “Doctor, I’m shocked. Is that what it takes to push you to your limits? You’ve been here for years, watching other people die and be mutilated but I cut the arm off of one idiot and suddenly you’re done? Well. Color me surprised. At least I can enjoy blowing your brains out, finally.” He aims a gun at Dmitri’s head, saying casually, “I’ve gotten so sick of you, you know.” Without thinking, Dmitri swings the metal tray he keeps his surgical tools in at Kepler’s head, sending the edge straight into his temple and nearly instantly killing him. As Kepler’s brain dies his fingers spasm, firing off the gun once before he hits the ground, but Dmitri doesn’t have time to think about the effects of it, prying his gun out of his curled fingers and digging something out of his pockets before stepping over his body to get to Eiffel. He doesn’t meet Eiffel’s wide eyed and confused gaze, putting the gun in the duffle bag for now and slinging it around his shoulders like a backpack. “Can you stand?” Eiffel nods, slipping off the table only to nearly collapse, unprepared for the unbalancing effects of losing his arm. Dmitri steps in, wrapping his right arm around his waist to steady him only to go stiff in shock when Eiffel hugs him suddenly, as tight as he can with one arm. “E…Eiffel?” He doesn’t get an answer, the younger man choosing to press his face into Dmitri’s shoulder instead for a long moment. After he acts like nothing had happened, his jaw set as he adjusts his posture to accommodate his many injuries without making them worse as Dmitri watches in bemusement. “Okay, I’m ready. Wait, why is there blood on you.” His voice cracks in concern. “Did you get hurt?” Dmitri shakes his head, holding up a hand soothingly. “Niet, am fine. This is from earlier.” Relieved, Eiffel relaxes against his side before straightening. Walking is made less difficult by Eiffel’s rapid adjustment to how he needs to move, but he’s still partially addled by morphine and frequently missteps as waves of dizziness pass through him.

Getting out of the building is repulsively easy, neither Kepler nor his boss, Cutter, having ever anticipated that someone like Dmitri would kill Kepler. The only issue they come across is the effects of undernourishment on Eiffel’s stamina. Dmitri had been giving him what little he could in terms of fluids but Kepler had been adamant that Eiffel wouldn’t eat until he told him something he wanted to hear, so now Eiffel is struggling to keep up after just three miles. Dmitri tries not to show his frustration with himself as he looks for a place for them to rest and hide from the men Cutter is sure to send once he finds Kepler’s body. Finding a copse of trees that will have to do he helps Eiffel to the ground, propping him against the base of a tree before sitting on his right side to change his bandages. After a moment Eiffel asks quietly, “Dmitri, Kepler said you’d been there for years. Why would you help me all of a sudden?” He doesn’t make eye contact as he answers. “Was not interested in seeing what he would do next. Saw opportunity and took it.“ "Oh..” Eiffel seems disappointed but doesn’t press, instead looking at him with surprise when he feels a needle slip under his skin. “Dmitri?” “Is morphine. You will likely sleep for a while, we will leave once you’re awake.” Eiffel protests weakly, his eyelids already heavy as exhaustion overtakes him now that pain isn’t keeping him awake. The moment Eiffel gives in to sleep Dmitri gets to work, stripping off his bloody shirt to look at where Kepler shot him. He hisses a little when he sees how much blood he’s lost in his haste to get Eiffel someplace safe, his pants already soaked in it. The bullet wound is in his shoulder, just below his collar bone with no exit wound, and he starts the process of getting the bullet out. He puts on a pair of gloves before grabbing the only pair of pliers he has on hand as he braces himself against a rock, far enough from Eiffel that he won’t disturb him while letting him keep an eye on the sleeping man.

The next few minutes are agony, Dmitri’s hands shaking slightly as he prods around in the wound until he hears the tiniest clink, gasping in relief when he pulls out the entire bullet. After that realizes he has no way to sterilize the wound, and with a feeling of resignation he grabs Kepler’s gun out of the bag. He takes out one bullet, leaving the rest, and with trepidation he carefully dismantles it using the pliers after wiping his blood off them with his shirt. He sighs in relief when he succeeds in taking it apart without having it explode in his hands before taking out the lighter he took off Kepler’s body and laying both out before him. He glances at Eiffel, checking that he’s still asleep, then spreads the gunpowder he’s salvaged from the bullet over his wound and steels himself before lighting it. He nearly blacks out from the sudden pain, but its subsided to a dull ache once the gunpowder is consumed. The bleeding has stopped, which was entirely his goal in this endeavor as he catches his breath, tears stinging his eyes. The only thing he has the energy for is to slap some gauze and tape over the blackened wound and put his shirt back on, grimacing at the blood thats soaked into it. He tries to sleep a little, but only succeeds in resting in short bursts before Eiffel wakes up and its time to leave.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dima.

Getting Eiffel to his feet is a test of Dmitri’s pain tolerance, the stitches in his back tearing as the bullet hole in his shoulder threatens to bleed again, but he finally succeeds only to have Eiffel throw his left arm around his neck and effectively smack the brand there. Muttering curses under his breath, he sways slightly as he blinks away the tears in his eyes. Eiffel immediately notices and is quick to apologize, fumbling with his left hand to anxiously pat him as if to make sure he’s okay and whole. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not- sorry! Are you alright?” Growling in irritation, Dmitri speaks through clenched teeth. “Am fine. Eiffel, is there a location you know of that is safe?” Eiffel’s voice is quietly chagrined. “Yeah, its like fifteen clicks that way.” He points with his left hand to the west, and Dmitri nods before quickly glancing around where they slept to make sure he’s leaving nothing behind.

They’ve only made it another three miles before Dmitri notices that Eiffel’s begun coughing and its only getting worse the more they walk. He feels uncomfortable stopping so soon but as soon as he sees how flushed Eiffel’s face is he cedes defeat and begins looking for a place to rest. Sleeping out in the open in this heavily wooded area isn’t ideal, not if Eiffel’s ill, so he searches for any signs of civilization out of a vain hope he’ll find something. He has a moderate amount of information about the area surrounding Kepler’s base of operations, but he knows that on the fringes of the base there were old buildings that Kepler used to camouflage anything suspicious. The outside of his building was actually designed to look like an abandoned military base, with cautionary signs talking about landmines to keep out curious locals, so Dmitri is unsurprised but crushingly relieved when he spots a small lookout tower thats no longer in use as its surrounded by trees too thick to see through. He eyes the stairs with trepidation, but the enclosed area underneath is just as good as the area above.

Eiffel seems just as relieved the moment he sees the tower, easing himself to the ground and leaning against the wall in the tiny but warm spot under the stairs. Dmitri doesn’t stop to rest, however, immediately getting to work on changing Eiffel’s many bandages and checking on his broken leg. At first Eiffel lightly slaps at his hand, telling him he’s fine, but he sighs in relief when Dmitri gently loosens the bloody bandages off his stump and replaces them with new ones. “You should have said something if the bandages were sticking.” “You seemed busy.” Eiffel lapses into coughing, groaning a little when the stitches on his chest ache. “I am busy trying to keep you alive. Do not make job difficult for me.” Eiffel looks at him with something Dmitri can’t describe and he wonders what hes thinking before shaking himself out of it mentally and going back to work. Once he feels satisfied with Eiffel’s condition he finally relaxes, exhaustion smothering him the moment he stops moving. He’s not even aware that Eiffel’s noticed until he feels himself get pulled over into Eiffel’s lap so his head is resting on Eiffel’s right thigh. Hes too tired to feel embarrassed when he looks at him in confusion and gets a little shrug in response. “I didn’t want you to have to use the duffle bag to sleep on.” Another wave of exhaustion sweeps over him and his last thoughts are of Eiffel before he falls asleep.

He wakes up sore but less exhausted than before, and he begins to move only to freeze in shock when he feels Eiffel’s hand half-tangled in his hair. With agonizing slowness he moves Eiffel’s hand away and sits up, gritting his teeth after the motion sends a jolt of pain through him. Eiffel’s still asleep, his head resting against the wall behind him. For a moment Dmitri considers letting him sleep but quickly changes his mind when he realizes Eiffel’s fever has gotten worse. He gently shakes Eiffel awake, and his concern grows when Eiffel takes too long to open his eyes. But eventually he does, and Dmitri tries not to breathe a sigh of relief before grabbing the duffle bag and getting him to his feet, supporting him. Eiffel leans against him heavily, clutching his shirt in an attempt to anchor himself before mumbling, his words choked with lung-wracking coughs, “Don’t wanna go.” “I know. Just a bit further.”

Getting Eiffel to stay on task when he’s getting this sick is heart-wrenching, but Dmitri has to keep them walking. He can feel the pulsing throb of infection in his shoulder and so its with dogged determination that he makes them walk nine miles, too worried about what may happen if they stop to listen to Eiffel’s quiet pleas for rest. Eventually he has to concede defeat when he can’t think anymore, and he is careful to help Eiffel to sit against a tree before practically collapsing next to him. Eiffel’s hand scrabbles weakly at his arm, and then he feels a thump against his shoulder as Eiffel lays his head on it, asleep almost immediately with his fingers intertwined with his.

The next morning he has to fight to get Eiffel to his feet, the younger man at the verge of tears as he begs Dmitri to let him rest, but in the end he finally just leans against him and lets Dmitri lead him along. Dmitri doesn’t need to look at his shoulder to know that he’s on the verge of blood poisoning so he again forces Eiffel past the point of exhaustion to get him to their destination. Eiffel points him to a nondescript grove of trees, his arm swaying slightly as he struggles to catch his breath, and once they get there he motions for Dmitri to wait. Within minutes a young woman strides towards them, horror and concern playing across her face in equal terms as she seemingly appears from nowhere. “Oh, my god! Eiffel, what the hell happened to you?!” He grins in her direction, saying weakly, “Lovelace! I’m home!” Lovelace seems to ignore Dmitri entirely, slinging Eiffel’s arm around her shoulders and half-carrying him towards where she appeared from. Dmitri jumps in surprise when a hand grasps him around the upper arm, a man pulling him along after her.

The building seems to come from nowhere. Or maybe the infection is worse than he realizes- he can’t be sure- but either way he’s inside it before he can get a good look at the outside. Eiffel is quickly taken to the infirmary as Lovelace acknowledges Dmitri for the first time. “And who the hell are you?” Dmitri tries not to sway on his feet. “I am Dmitri Volodin.” She narrows her eyes. “That supposed to mean something to me?” Shaking his head to get rid of the fog of exhaustion thats keeping him from thinking straight, he mutters, “Niet, apologies. Am- was- doctor for Warren Kepler. After amputation I helped Eiffel escape.” He’s so tired, but he thinks Lovelace looks disgusted. “I see. Take him to the sub-level, I want to have a chat with him.” “If it is possible, I need antibiotics for blood poisoning, or I will not live long enough for your chat.” She makes an irritated sound, but gestures for someone to get him what he needs.

Twenty minutes later, Dmitri is sitting in a poorly lit room with concrete walls and a concrete ceiling, bars running overhead. He feels resigned when Lovelace sweeps into the room, looking at him with what is obvious disgust now that his head is clearer. He’s played this game before.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets softer from here.

"Oh, goddamnit.” A sharp pain in his sternum makes Dmitri gasp in pain, his lungs burning as they taste air and reject the water inside them. He coughs frantically, wheezing as he tries to fill his lungs as quickly as possible while his mind despairs, he had been so close that time. He’s hauled to his feet and his arms are chained to the ceiling, forcing him to stand while Lovelace berates him coldly. “You know, I’d have a bit more respect for you if you would stop trying to kill yourself. Its annoying.” His voice is a rasp as he coughs, trying to expel the last of the water still trapped in his lungs. “I would stop if you would actually realize I am telling the truth. I did in fact kill Kepler, and I did bring Eiffel here to save his life. That is all. I have told you everything.” Lovelace grabs him by the chin to make him look her in the eye, saying venomously, “What I do believe is that you’re a coward who only decided to ‘save’ Eiffel because you were scared of what Kepler would do to you if he died.” Dmitri looks away from her glare, his lips thinning. She punches him in the jaw this time, and his head reels wildly while he tries to get his bearings. He feels strange, almost like his heart is fuzzy and he’s dizzy, and with a start he realizes whats wrong- Lovelace has pushed his heart into arrhythmia from too much abuse. It was probably the combination of the last few moments that did it, he thinks to himself, and feels mild relief at the idea that he’ll be dead relatively soon.

Lovelace notices that he’s no longer gasping for air, his breathing shallow and his eyes slightly unfocused, and she quickly comes to the same conclusion he did: she pushed him too far. She’s trying to come up with a plan when she hears the door to the room slam open, Eiffel’s irate voice filling the room. “What in the HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING.” Lovelace whirls, looking at him in shock as he storms up to her with absolute rage on his face. “I-I was just doing my job, Eiffel! God, he shows up out of nowhere, with you- and you’re.. What was I supposed to do?!” He clenches his fist and coldly walks past her to gently touch Dmitri’s cheek. “Dmitri, are you okay?” When he gets no answer he looks at her accusingly. “Get him down, Lovelace.” She hesitates for a moment, and he snaps. “LOVELACE, GET HIM DOWN. I HAVE ONE GODDAMN HAND AND I CAN’T DO IT MYSELF.” Within seconds Dmitri’s wrists are uncuffed and he staggers, unprepared for the loss of balance. Eiffel scrambles to catch him, looking sick with concern before saying quietly, “Help me get him to medical. I’ll deal with this later.”

Eiffel shifts from foot to foot in anxious concern while the doctor finishes restitching the flayed skin on Dmitri’s back and bandaging both that and his brand before working on an injury Eiffel hasn’t seen. The doctor looks at the semi-conscious Dmitri in shock, and he murmurs the answer to his question before he can ask it. “Gunpowder.” Shaking his head, the doctor sanitizes the bullet wound and bandages it before patting him on the arm. “You have arrhythmia, which I’m sure you’re aware of. You’ll have to be on quite a few medications to help with that and the blood poisoning from your field operation, but you should be fine in a few weeks.” Dmitri nods and the doctor leaves after checking his IV. Eiffel doesn’t even hesitate, striding forward to sit on the bed beside him while Dmitri looks at him in bemusement and Eiffel looks back seriously. “What happened?” Dmitri’s head feels foggy, did the doctor give him something for pain? He didn’t need it. “There have been an awful lot of things that have happened. You will need to be specific.” Eiffel points at his shoulder. “Fine, how did this happen?” Dmitri sighs softly, leaning his head back against the pillows on the hospital bed. “When Kepler died he shot me. Had to cauterize the wound, was bleeding too much. Used gunpowder.” Eiffel doesn’t say anything for a moment, then asks quietly, “What did Lovelace do to you?” At that Dmitri stiffens slightly, looking away from Eiffel. “Nothing. I was not there long. Maybe a few hours.” “Dmitri, I’ve been asleep for three days.” His refusal to answer is all Eiffel needs to know that whatever it was, he’d rather Eiffel not know about it. So instead of pressing further he slips his hand into his and lays back next to him, to all appearances falling asleep. Dmitri looks at him for what feels like an eternity before he does the same.

He wakes up with a start, glancing around anxiously before relaxing when he sees Eiffel perched beside him, his back to him as a doctor changes the bandages on his stump. “I’m telling you, I’m fine. No side effects except for a little sensitivity, but the implant didn’t do anything lasting. I’m sure it’ll fade in a week or so.” The doctor grumbles. “But still, Douglas, the implant really shouldn’t have been left in for so long. We ought to do more testing-” “Nope, no more testing. I’m fiiiiine, just let me be spoiled and lazy, quit trying to stick me with needles.” Dmitri wasn’t even aware that he made a sound when Eiffel turns to look at him with a grin. “Can you believe this? You leave an experimental implant in for waay past the expy date and all of a sudden its, ‘Eiffel, you could have permanent damage’ and stuff like that. Let me wallow in self pity before you try to fix me first, geez.” Dmitri flashes him an amused glance before sitting up to allow the doctor to dither over his injuries, having finished with Eiffel. The doctor mumbles in displeasure as he leaves, and Eiffel flops back into the bed with a sigh. “I’m booooored.” Dmitri feels his lips twitch in a smile, keeping it hidden from Eiffel by looking at his IV to see which medications hes on. “Then go do something, you do not have to stay here. You are perfectly capable of walking.” “But, Dmitri, how can I leave you here alone? Then you’d be bored, and I’d feel awful.” Dmitri laughs softly then, looking at him with tolerant patience. “I will likely sleep, since the doctor has been kind enough to heavily medicate me. So, you will be especially bored if you stay.” “Aww, but you’re so cute when you’re asleep. Now I’m really gonna stay.” Dmitri’s never been more grateful that the back of his neck is bandaged, hiding the evidence of his embarrassment while he turns away from Eiffel and pretends to be busy with something. He rubs his eyes with one hand when he feels drowsy suddenly, and Eiffel pulls him gently back until he’s laying down again. “I am fine, Eiffel.” Again he feels Eiffel’s hand slip into his. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you’re wide awake. Go to sleep, Dmitri.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Wingman Jacobi and worried Momfriend Minkowski.

Dmitri wakes up when he feels Eiffel shift next to him, trying to slip out of the bed without disturbing him and failing. He watches him quietly, seeing the way his shoulders slump as he runs his hand through his hair and sighs. He looks up when a man Dmitri’s never seen before walks into the room. Eiffel whispers and Dmitri can see him smile in delight. “Jacobi, long time no see. I’d shake your hand but, you know.” Jacobi looks at him with a worried but happy expression, reaching out to lightly punch him on the shoulder. “Yeah, Jesus, man, Kepler really did a number on you, didn’t he. Who is that behind you?” Eiffel moves his hand back without looking as if its an unconscious movement, covering Dmitri’s hand in his. “This is Dmitri, its kind of a long story. So, did you want to go to the lab or what, I’m sure you didn’t just come for a social call.” Jacobi marks Eiffel’s mannerisms with interest but nods and scratches his cheek with a bionic hand. “Yeah, you caught me. Minkowski heard what happened and sent me on ahead to go and get you measured and try to get one of the newest models fitted on you. They’ve got a better nerve system than the Mark 3s, and higher damage resistance. Plus, they come in pink.” Eiffel laughs a little, squeezing Dmitri’s hand once before standing and stretching. “Sounds great. When is Minkowski’s ETA?” “Within 20 hours, at least. She’s coming in hot, you know how Mama Bird gets.” Eiffel looks at Dmitri who is watching this exchange with interest and smiles warmly at him. “Good morning, sunshine. I’m gonna go with Jacobi for a few hours, but based off your expression you’re gonna fall asleep any second now. Be back before you know it.” With a startling amount of casualness Eiffel leans over to kiss him on the cheek before motioning for Jacobi to lead the way and leaving. When Dmitri wakes up again hours later he’s sure it was a dream.

The doctor is kind enough to find him a book to occupy his time while he performs his checkups, and he’s still up when Eiffel is half-dragged into the room by an irate woman. “Douglas Eiffel you are gonna come in here and rest or so help me God I will beat you.” Eiffel laughs, chagrined, and ducks a slap aimed for the back of his head. “Geez, Minkowski, I’m an invalid! You can’t just go around beating me!” She points an accusing finger at him, obviously about to say something else when she notices Dmitri. “Oh. Hello, I completely forgot you were here. I hope I didn’t disturb you.” Dmitri shakes his head slightly, and some of his anxiety must show on his face because Eiffel slips over to his side and sits on the bed next to him. He relaxes the moment Eiffel laces his fingers through his. “Minkowski, this is Dmitri. Dmitri, this is Commander Minkowski, our resident Mama Bird. She’s all squawk and no bite, so don’t worry about her.” Minkowski bristles at him, shooting a glance at Dmitri as if to say, ‘Can you believe this guy?’ before saying aloud “Eiffel, you asshole, the doctor told you to rest and you’re going to if it kills you, so stop trying to change the subject!” He pouts, saying petulantly, “But I’m boooored!” “And I don’t care! Dmitri, was it? You’re his new baby sitter. Congrats. I have work to do, since somebody had to get caught and now I have a ton of paperwork to do.” Her words are sharp but she fusses over Eiffel for a moment before mussing up his hair and leaving.

Eiffel lays his head on Dmitri’s shoulder and sighs dramatically. “Well, now what am I gonna do?” Dmitri tries to sound relaxed but the feeling of Eiffel’s hair on his neck is making him think of things he shouldn’t. “You could sleep. Or read.” “That sounds boring.” Dmitri shoots him an amused glance before closing his book. “Well, that is all you can do at the moment, unfortunately.” He’s unprepared when Eiffel asks, quietly, “Why didn’t you tell Lovelace what Kepler did to you? I asked- she said that all you would tell her is that you were my doctor, you were told to keep me alive, and you got me out after Kepler cut off my arm.” Dmitri avoids looking at Eiffel when he lifts head off of Dmitri’s shoulder. “I did not see the point. Kepler’s treatment of me has no relation to why I got you out.” Eiffel doesn’t speak, and he knows that he’s waiting for him to continue. “There is nothing left to say, Eiffel. I do not feel that it was necessary to mention, it is not important.” He glances at him, and Eiffel looks so sad, like he knows that Dmitri feels that everything thats happened to him was justified, something that he deserved. He can’t handle that sadness, so he looks away. He jumps when he feels a very light touch on the back of his neck and looks at Eiffel with surprise. “Dmitri, do you hate me? I understand if you do.” “Of course I don’t, why on Earth would I hate you?” Eiffel sighs, not meeting his gaze as he looks at the bandages on his neck. “I.. I was just asking. I’m gonna go for a walk, okay? Be back in a bit.” He seems to hesitate for a moment before gently kissing the top of Dmitri’s head and leaving.

Hours later, or maybe minutes since at some point Dmitri fell asleep again, he wakes up to Eiffel talking to Jacobi in low tones as he’s being measured for something. “Well, Minkowski’s sending Lovelace in to see how Cutter’s handling the loss as of 0800. Her check-in time is 2100 tomorrow, but I think she’ll be back before that. Cutter never stays in one place for long.” Jacobi nods, wrapping measuring tape around Eiffel’s chest. “You’re probably right, she’ll get in and out before noon tomorrow probably. What do you think she’ll report?” Eiffel thinks for a moment, scratching the back of his head before speaking. “Ahh, I’m not sure. I mostly dealt with Kepler, but he was pretty close-lipped. I had hoped he’d get chatty as the sessions went on, you know- the monologue? But no luck. Most I could get out of him was that Cutter had his fingers in every pie and there was nothing anyone could do about it. I’ll feel better once he’s six feet under, though, that man is waaay too crafty for me. Lovelace’ll probably say, ‘He’s pissed’ and just leave it at that if I know her.” Jacobi laughs softly so he doesn’t wake Dmitri. “No doubt. Listen, this Mark 3 I’m fitting you for is gonna be pretty durable but you have to be careful with it. Lots of moving parts. Give me a week or so to get the connection adjusted to your size and then we can start training you with its super cool toys, sound good?” Eiffel sighs dramatically, “I gueessss,” and Jacobi stands, dusting off his ratty jeans. “I’ll take these measurements and get out of your hair then. I can’t believe Minkowski’s been here for less than 24 hours and she’s already grounded you. Oh- wait- I can totally believe that!” He laughs when Eiffel playfully swipes at him and waves over his shoulder as he leaves.

“How long have you been awake?” Eiffel asks softly, not looking at Dmitri. “Long enough. Eiffel- did.. did you mean for Kepler to catch you?” Eiffel shifts so he’s facing him on the bed, his legs crossed as best as he can with one in a brace, but he still avoids looking at him. “Yes.. and no. You never go into a place like that asking to be caught, but its not the end of the world if you are, at least not for us. Its part of the reason we have those implants, they block messages to the brain that say 'Ow, that hurts!’ At least, to a degree. It would seriously suck if you missed a message that told you that you were bleeding out so theres a certain threshold it caps off at. So, you know, I wasn’t really beating myself up about it.” Without thinking about it first, Dmitri grabs the front of Eiffel’s shirt and pulls him close, hugging him as tightly as he can without hurting him and whispering with feeling, “You are an idiot.” Eiffel inhales sharply at the contact, startled, but he wraps his arm around Dmitri’s neck and says quietly, “Yeah. I’m sorry.” As if he can only handle hugging Eiffel for so long Dmitri pulls away, but not before Eiffel gently kisses him on the cheek and lays down next to him. Dmitri turns his face away from Eiffel to hide his blush with the younger man gets comfortable, sighing sleepily. He glances at him to check if he’s awake and relaxes when he sees he’s almost asleep. Dmitri’s blush only gets worse when Eiffel grabs his hand and brushes his thumb against the back of it.

Dmitri’s still awake when the doctor comes in to do a final check-up on his back and to remove the stitches if they’ve healed to his liking. The doctor glances past Dmitri to check on the sleeping Eiffel before carefully pulling out the stitches in Dmitri’s back. “So, Minkowski’s grounded him, huh?” Dmitri feels a little surprised at the comment. “Ah, da. Apparently she found him overworking himself?” The doctor chuckles lightly, shaking his head behind Dmitri’s back before saying, “Overworking is too generous. He was probably being annoying and Jacobi made Minkowski come and get him. Eiffel likes to get into people’s hair and 'help’ them, whether they want the help or not. He’s also a whiny little shit when you catch him at it.” Dmitri pauses for a moment before saying carefully, “I see. Tell me, is there anything I can do while I am here?” “They didn’t tell you? They’re moving you off-base now that you’re in good shape. There were some concerns about you catching flak if Cutter decided to move against us, so we’re sending you to the farm, so to speak.” Dmitri turns to look at him with a feeling of dread, anxiety roiling in his stomach. “Where to?” The doctor doesn’t notice, shrugging lightly as he finishes up the last line of stitches. “Dunno. You’ll have to ask Minkowski.” With that he removes Dmitri’s IV and the bandages on his shoulder and neck, making Dmitri feel even colder. The doctor sees him shiver and hands him a thick sweater. “Alright, you’re set. Good talking to you, Doctor Volodin.” “Yes, the same to you.” A minute after the doctor leaves Dmitri moves Eiffel’s hand away from his and gets out of bed, hissing a little when he feels lightheaded as he slips the sweater on gratefully. He doesn’t let that keep him from finding Minkowski’s office, however, so with painstaking care he walks slowly through the base.

He feels a hand wrap around his upper arm while he’s walking and he looks at it’s owner in surprise. Jacobi has an expression of concern on his face. “Dmitri, what on earth are you doing?” “…. Walking?” “Yes, I see that, but why are you walking alone, wheres Eiffel?” Dmitri’s heart sinks, and he looks at the floor. “He really ought to be with you, you look like you could call over at the drop of a hat. Well, here.” Jacobi casually offers him an arm and Dmitri feels a flood of relief that he was asking out of concern and not mistrust. Dmitri takes his arm. “So, where are you headed?” “I wish to speak with Minkowski.” “She’s in the next building over, its gonna be a serious walk. You up for it?” Dmitri sighs in resignation before nodding, and while they walk Jacobi asks him questions. “So, what do you plan on doing now?” “I have not thought about it.” “I can’t say I blame you, I used to work for Cutter a loooong time ago before Minkowski heard about me. She sent Lovelace to get me, I had sent out an SOS using a radio I snuck into my hand’s design.” Dmitri looks at him curiously. “Did Minkowski send Eiffel in for a reason with Kepler?” Jacobi shrugs a little. “Just the usual, recon and intel. You were a happy accident, he tells me.” “I do not understand what that means, what is a happy accident?” Jacobi sneaks a surprised glance at Dmitri before saying thoughtfully, “Its like… when you intend to do something and something goes wrong, right? But what comes out of that problem is a good thing, so you don’t mind the problem?” He resists the urge to laugh when he sees Dmitri flush in embarrassment and innocently says, “Damn, ya’ll are so cute together. I’m a little jealous.” Dmitri trips, Jacobi having to help catch him while Dmitri babbles, his face blood red, “Niet, niet, not like that, am- we- we barely know each other!” Jacobi looks at him in shock. “What?! But you two are so- what the hell??” Dmitri looks at him with panic, saying quickly, “Da, I know, I do not know why he is.. why is he is like that! It is very confusing!” “Do you hate it? I mean, I could always say that to him, let him know he’s coming on too hard-” Dmitri interjects with “No don’t I don’t mind I am just very confused I mean have you even heard how we met why would he like me it is very strange and I don’t know what to do-” Jacobi puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Dmitri, take a breath. You like him too?” His only response is a wide-eyed look in a blood red face. “Okay, then. Its fine, you like him, he obviously likes you, whats the problem?” “Problem is I am horrible human being and he is vastly too good for someone like me.” Jacobi shakes his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Nope, don’t believe that for a second. If Eiffel likes you, you have to be someone amazing. Its just how he is.” Dmitri has no answer to that, so Jacobi takes his arm again and walks with him to Minkowski’s office.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even fluffier.

Minkowski is surrounded by neat stacks of paper and folders, engrossed in writing something on a form until she hears a knock on the door. “Yes?” She feels a little surprised to see Dmitri there, with Jacobi of all people, but she gestures to the chairs set before her. “Come on in.” Jacobi pats him lightly on the shoulder before waving at her. “Sorry, but I was just making sure he didn’t die in transit. See ya!” Dmitri looks momentarily uncomfortable at being left alone with her before sitting in the proffered chair. “What can I do for you, doctor?” He anxiously tugs on his sleeves before saying, haltingly, “I heard that I was to be moved off base. Can… can I ask where?” She looks at him in surprise. “I had assumed Eiffel would have told you, since you’ll be staying with him.” She feels even more surprised and not a little confused when Dmitri buries his face in his hands, muttering in Russian fervently as he blushes to the roots of his hair. “Dmitri, are you alright?” He nods, not looking at her, and at that moment Eiffel bursts in, interrupting anything they were about to say by asking, “Yo, Minkowski, have you seen- Oh, there you are! Jacobi said you were here, I wanted to ask you something. Thanks, Minkowski!” Eiffel grabs Dmitri by the hand and pulls him after him, walking out of the office while Dmitri protests. “Eiffel, I was not finished speaking with Minkowski, you cannot just flounce in and demand I leave, is rude.” Eiffel nods absently before looking at him seriously. “Dmitri, I meant to tell you earlier but they’re moving you to my house for a little while. Is that okay?” Dmitri pushes his hair out of his face with one hand, ranting in Russian while Eiffel watches in shock. He heaves out a sigh before saying, resigned, “That is fine.” “Are… are ya sure? Cause you seemed a little…” “Eiffel, it is fine. When do I leave?” Eiffel fidgets and says, almost in a question, “Nooow?” “Well, I do not have anything to bring with me so there is no need to pack. Lets go.”

Dmitri is quiet on the ride over and Eiffel nervously glances at him from time to time until they arrive, when his happiness at being home outweighs his anxiety. He unlocks the front door and kicks it open, striding into his living room and flopping onto the couch with a satisfied sound as Dmitri hesitantly follows him in. Eiffel’s descriptions of his home didn’t do it justice, as he has floor-to-ceiling shelves of records and cds, any spare space on the walls covered in movie posters and photos from what must be Boot Camp based off of the sheer amount of camo everyone is wearing. His floors are wooden and worn, with a fluffy rug crookedly sitting beneath the coffee table thats stained with rings from drinks over the years. His kitchen is well-equipped, and the door to his bedroom is covered in band stickers and more pictures. Dmitri feels sick suddenly, his hands clenching into fists as he struggles to control his breathing. “Do you mind if I take a shower.” Eiffel doesn’t look up, waving his hand towards his bedroom. “Sure, go ahead. Minkowski had the guys at Provisioning send some clothes on ahead, they’re in the box on the bed.” Dmitri wastes no time finding something that covers his arms and back and some pants before taking a very cold shower to clear his head.

Eiffel peeks over the back of the couch when he walks back into the living-room, and something on Dmitri’s face makes him get up and walk over to him. He fusses over him, tsking over his dripping wet hair before walking into the bathroom to grab a towel, coming back and making Dmitri sit on the couch. “Did you take a cold shower? I have a water heater, you know.” Dmitri nods, not trusting himself to speak, and Eiffel throws the towel over his head. “Dry your hair, you’ll catch a cold or something.” He does so sluggishly, and Eiffel sits on the coffee table so he can look him in the eye. “Dmitri, are you okay? You don’t have to stay here, you know.” After a long silence Dmitri sighs, setting the towel in his lap and combing his hair back with his fingers before speaking. “I was just thinking, it was like you described it.” Eiffel takes a moment to understand what he means, then a look of overwhelming sadness crosses his face before he leans forward and hugs Dmitri around the neck. “If it counts for anything, I’m glad you get to see it.” Dmitri nods, hugging him tentatively around the waist as he hides his face in his shoulder. Eiffel runs his fingers through Dmitri’s damp hair and kisses him on the temple before straightening with a groan. “I dunno about you, but I could honestly use a shower and a nap. I’ll be right back, okay?” Eiffel yawns as he walks away, and Dmitri finds himself struggling to stay awake when Eiffel comes back, his hair slightly damp and pajamas hanging off his frame.

Without saying anything Eiffel grabs his hand and half-pulls him to his room, the boxes from before moved off the bed and onto the floor. He lays down with a huge yawn and pats the mattress beside him. Dmitri feels embarrassed for some reason, so he hesitates for a moment before sitting on the bed next to him. Eiffel rolls onto his side and smiles brightly at him. “Much better than that hospital bed, right? I hate sleeping in those, they’re awful.” Dmitri nods, still feeling awkward until Eiffel reaches up and pulls him down so he’s laying next to him. “Go to sleep, you look exhausted. I don’t think the doctors planned for you to walk an actual mile after getting your stitches out, dummy.” Dmitri shoots him a look, saying defensively, “I would not have had to if someone had told me what was going on.” Eiffel has the decency to look chagrined. “I forgot, I’m sorry. Plus, you were sleeping and I really hate to wake you cause you’re just so freaking cute but it won’t happen again.” As if to show his determination to keep his promise, he kisses Dmitri on the cheek before laying back and closing his eyes. It takes Dmitri a while to calm his heart enough to fall asleep.

He’s not at all sure how this happened, but when he wakes up Eiffel is half-laying atop him, his head laying on Dmitri’s chest while he sleeps. As if he knows Dmitri is awake, he shifts in his sleep so his leg covers Dmitri’s, effectively trapping him. Thinking ‘This is how I die,’ Dmitri focuses on the room so he doesn’t have to think about Eiffel or the situation he finds himself in. Eiffel’s bedroom is painted in dark greens and blues, like the ocean, and the walls are less heavily decorated here. He’s got a few pictures of the Unit, but what covers the walls the most are random art prints of nature placed with no particular rhyme or reason. He also has heavy drapes over the window to help darken the room which are made useless by the tiny galaxy thats projecting over the bed. Dmitri had been so distracted before that he hadn’t even noticed, but now he finds himself watching the galaxies swirl on the ceiling while he unconsciously runs his fingers through Eiffel’s hair. When he wakes up again some time later Eiffel is gone, an instant wave of anxiety rushing over him. He takes a deep breath and sits up, trying not to let his frantic thoughts show as he makes his way to the living room.

Dmitri feels relief so strong it makes him a little faint when he sees Eiffel in the kitchen, digging through the pantry to find something to eat. He sits on the couch in a spot where he can keep an eye on him, pulling his knees up to his chest. He’s lost in thought when he feels Eiffel kiss the top of his head and hand him a pill bottle and glass of water. “Since you’re off the IV you gotta take this daily now.” Dmitri hides his flustered expression by reading the label and nodding, and Eiffel goes back to the kitchen to grab the bowl of cereal he’s settled on eating. Eiffel sets it down on the coffee table before going back to grab another. “I dunno who has been buying me groceries but bless them. I love Lucky Charms.” Dmitri can’t help himself, saying in a deadpan, “I am not surprised you like cereal with candy in it.” Eiffel grins at him. “What can I say, I’ve got a refined palate.” Dmitri eats quickly, taking the heart medication before setting both on the coffee table and wrapping his arms around his legs. Eiffel sets his bowl down after he’s done, laying his head back on the couch cushions and his arm on the back of the couch. “So, what did you want to do today?” Dmitri looks at him in surprise. “What do you mean?” Eiffel laughs a little, saying, “I mean, do you want to go do anything? Like, we could find you some stuff for the house- clothes you like or maybe something for you to do while I’m on base.” At a loss, Dmitri’s voice is a little tentative and confused. “Eiffel, it has been..” His voice trails off and he looks at the rings on the coffee table as he tries to think of what to say. He looks at Eiffel when he feels his hand on the back of his neck and flushes when Eiffel gently kisses him on the cheek. Eiffel’s expression isn’t pitying, or sad, but a patiently loving look that makes Dmitri’s head spin. “Well, I have a sneaking suspiscion you like to read, so we can start there.” Dmitri hides his face in his arms before muttering, “Da, that is fine,” Eiffel’s answering chuckle making his blush darken and the back of his neck feels cold when Eiffel removes his hand. Eiffel grabs the bowls off the table and takes them to the kitchen, Dmitri watching him from the corner of his eye.

An hour later Eiffel’s leading Dmitri through a crowded mall, obviously excited to be out and about. He stops in front of a bookstore and grins at Dmitri. “I don’t ever come in here, but from what Hera’s told me its got a decent collection.” “Who is Hera?” Eiffel looks startled, saying in surprise, “I haven’t introduced you to Hera? I’m an idiot, she’s the techie on base. She helps Jacobi design his toys, I could’ve sworn I introduced you…maybe I was just telling her about you. Thats actually really likely. Well, we’ll have to go see her then.” Dmitri feels a familiar blush creep through him at the idea of Eiffel talking to anyone about him but Eiffel doesn’t notice. He pulls Dmitri into the store and then looks at him expectantly which Dmitri can’t help but laugh at. “You really don’t like reading, do you?” Eiffel seems to light up when he hears Dmitri laugh, lacing his fingers through his. “Nope, I hate it. I’m always down for someone reading to me, though.” Shaking his head, Dmitri wanders over to browse the shelves. He sneaks a glance at Eiffel when he feels him pull his hand away and smiles to himself when he sees Eiffel pick up a knick-knack they have on display. Eiffel meanders around, always staying in Dmitri’s line of sight and checking in with him by laying his hand on Dmitri’s lower back and peering over his shoulder to see what he’s looking at. After about an hour Dmitri’s feeling sluggish, having made his selections and half-listening as Eiffel purchases them.

On the way home Eiffel picks up dinner at a Chinese take-out place, finding himself at a loss when they get to the house and he realizes he doesn’t know how to eat with chopsticks with his left hand. Dmitri doesn’t know how to eat with them, period, so Eiffel attempts to teach him while struggling himself before giving up and grabbing forks. While they eat he asks Dmitri about the books he decided on, and they stay up until the wee hours of the morning, playfully arguing about Dmitri’s taste in literature and Eiffel’s lack thereof. The days pass by quickly, but Dmitri is more than content to stay with Eiffel for as long as he’ll let him. They talk about everything, and nothing, and even though Dmitri is ignorant of the goings-on of the outside world while he was in Kepler’s custody Eiffel is delighted to tell him everything he doesn’t know about. Often they stay up until morning, Eiffel telling a story, all smiles and warmth, and Dmitri would curl up in his seat and watch him for hours. He gradually gets used to being alone, with some days the anxiety getting so bad that Eiffel sees it on his face and stays with him, claiming that he’s too tired to go to the base that day. Instead of leaving Eiffel puts on some movie that Dmitri’s never seen and lays his head in Dmitri’s lap, smiling up at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen. Eiffel usually falls asleep before the movie is over, Dmitri unable to resist running his fingers through his hair. Dmitri is extraordinarily happy, and he quietly waits for it to be taken away from him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last bit, yo.

Dmitri’s anxiety comes and goes as Eiffel does, and some nights he can’t sleep from fear. He’s done nothing to earn this happiness, he thinks, and even though Eiffel constantly showers him in affection he honestly can’t believe that Eiffel could feel the same way he does. He marks down Eiffel’s strange behavior as just a nuance of his personality and nothing more, if only so he doesn’t get his hopes up. But he still gets flustered when Eiffel holds his hand, or kisses him on the cheek, and his casual touches make his heart pound wildly. And Eiffel is always so kind, and so patient, even though Dmitri is prone to bouts of irritability when he feels overwhelmed by the many things he’s ignorant of due to the passage of time in Kepler’s custody.

Eiffel is gone for the day, on base so Jacobi can finish his adjustments to Eiffel’s prosthetic, and Dmitri tries not to let the anxiety overwhelm him. He attempts to read by the roiling in his stomach distracts him, so instead he puts on one of the horrible movies Eiffel loves and focuses on that instead. Its easier for him to sink into half-awareness when his eyes are distracted by something that doesn’t need his full attention, and so he jumps in surprise when he hears Eiffel throw open the front door. “DMITRI!” He whirls around, standing, to look at him and stops when he feels a warm and cold hand on either side of his face. “Look, look! I got my arm! Isn’t it cool?!” Eiffel’s face is too close by far, and Dmitri struggles to hide his nervousness, especially given the feeling of his hands on his face. Eiffel misreads him, and says with a touch of concern, “Is it cold? Sorry!” Unconsciously Dmitri puts his hands on Eiffel’s forearms, looking away as he mutters a quiet, “Is fine.”

He doesn’t see the smitten look that crosses Eiffel’s face, just feels his heart nearly stop when Eiffel leans in to kiss him. Dmitri’s not entirely sure if what he says in response is even in English as Eiffel takes advantage of his shock to kiss him a dozen more times. “Wait- what- Eiffel, why are you- Damnit I can’t think if you do that!” Eiffel laughs then, grinning widely as he brushes his thumb against Dmitri’s cheek. “I can’t help it though, you’re so cute. Really, its unfair.” Dmitri’s face couldn’t go any redder, or so he thought, and he can’t even look Eiffel in the eye. He gives in only when Eiffel’s voice goes serious suddenly. “Hey, Dmitri? If you could, would you want to live with me permanently? Like, as my husband?”

Dmitri sits down heavily, stunned beyond words, and immediately covers his face so Eiffel can’t see him. He feels gentle hands enclose his wrists, moving his hands out of his face so Eiffel can look him in the eyes. “Do you want to? Its okay if you don’t.” Dmitri’s voice cracks a little. “OfcourseIdobutwejustmetmaybeamonthago-” Eiffel beams at him, squeezing his hands and saying with total sincerity, “Yeah, but I’ve loved you since we met. So I don’t think thats a problem.” Dmitri fervently whispers, “Eiffel, we first met after you were tortured I do not think that counts!” “You were and still are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You can’t convince me otherwise, I’m set on marrying you.” Looking down, then back up at Eiffel with a baffled expression, Dmitri says in confusion, “But, I do not think we have even dated?” It’s Eiffel’s turn to be shocked. “We haven’t?!” “No, I-I do not think so? I have not dated before, so I am not entirely sure.” Eiffel kisses him again, sweetly. “Well, problem solved. We’re dating. Now that thats established, do you wanna get married?” Dmitri lets out the tiniest scream, hiding his furiously red face once more as Eiffel laughs. Quietly, so embarrassed he could easily die, Dmitri whispers “Da, that would be okay.”

Dmitri peers through his fingers at Eiffel, who is practically radiating happiness, and he can’t help himself when he very lightly kisses him on the lips. Eiffel looks thunderstruck for a second, quiet for once, before he slowly smiles at him and says, “Hey, I love you.” Dmitri grumbles in embarrassment, glancing at him, and fidgets. “I love you too.”


End file.
